


wait, what?

by orphan_account



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sexuality Crisis, i wanted julian fellowes to fucking develop jimmys character but NO, lmao they are a MESS, more like friends to enemies to friends to lovers, we had to suffer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 04:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19369432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: jimmy has like 5 crises a day, the majority of which are about thomas barrow.or, when lady anstruther demands that jimmy come back to work for her (aka, be her boytoy), he finds himself questioning who he is and what he wants.





	wait, what?

**Author's Note:**

> hey nerds this is my first time posting on here/writing fic so uh dont be too mean. if anyone is left in the thomas/jimmy fandom show urselves lol; ive been here for like 2 years and ive read a lot (a LOT) of fic but i never talk to anyone so u dont know me. anyways i hope you enjoy this little retelling/spin im writing!!
> 
> p.s. rating might change i have no clue what im doing yet.

Jimmy sat in the servants' hall with his chin cradled in the fingers of his right hand and his left hand loosely around a cup of tea. His eyes were fixed on the old wooden table and his eyelids were drooping; it was entirely too late. But he had some thinking to do. His former mistress, Lady Anstruther, had invited him back to work for her. But he knew what would happen if he did go back, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want her hands tickling his sides or pinching his hips as she walked by, or notes passed during dinner that he couldn’t ignore if he wanted to keep his job. No, that wouldn’t do at all. To be honest, Thomas’s touches had been more welcome than hers.

He shifted his chin in his hand. Thomas had stolen glances his way at every opportunity, stepped too close to him in the corridors, kneaded his shoulders and neck with capable hands in an erotic sort of massage, and kissed him in his sleep. But Jimmy was the one who had led him on. Jimmy knew he’d looked up at Thomas through his eyelashes and floppy hair, and leaned too close at the table, and let him continue with his intimate touches. Usually nothing came of sucking up to a boss, but this time, his boss was a homosexual, and he’d made a mistake. He supposed that Thomas and him were on alright terms now, but he felt guilty every time he caught the under-butler staring or pulling his hand back from a touch he had wanted to give. He realized he was caught between Lady Anstruther and Thomas. He would have to choose.

He might not be able to, in the end, but it was nice to feel like he had a choice. 

Suddenly, the chair next to him scraped over the floor, and someone dropped into it. Jimmy felt a light tap on his shoulder and opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them. Thomas was sat next to him now, all steely eyes and jet-black hair, a lopsided smile on his face.

“What are you still doin’ here? It’s late,” said Thomas. It was a question he never would have asked Anna or Mr. Molesley because it might give the impression that he cared, but one he felt comfortable asking Jimmy. Jimmy took his head out of his hand and stretched. He returned Thomas’s rare, warm smile.

“I was just thinking,” he said. Thomas raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to continue, because he knew Jimmy would. 

“Well… Lady Anstruther kind of asked me if I’d work for her again. She’s just got back from France herself and opened the old house,” he said. None of it sounded real to him. He saw Thomas’s face fall a little before he returned it to its mask of nonchalance. 

Thomas picked at a splinter on the tabletop. The electric light flickered above them.

“Do you want to do it?” he asked. 

“I don’t know. I’d miss you,” replied Jimmy honestly. He was too tired and too… on the edge of something to hide anything from Thomas. 

“Well, then,” said Thomas. He looked utterly perplexed. His eyebrows were knit in confusion and Jimmy wanted to reach out and smooth the crease between them. Wait, what?

Jimmy had been feeling confused ever since a few weeks after they became friends and he’d really gotten to know Thomas without the awkward touches and silences that had been there before. Or rather, there were fewer awkward silences because now they knew how to fill them, and no awkward touches because Thomas didn’t dare touch him anymore. Jimmy wished he would, and then wished that he didn’t wish that. 

Thomas took the teacup out from under him and drank some, wrinkling his nose after.

“Cold,” he said. He seemed not to know how to respond to Jimmy’s honesty. Understandable. It was rather rare. 

Jimmy sighed. It was so late, and servants had to get up so bleeding early in the morning that it often felt like he didn’t sleep at all. He took the teacup back from Thomas and went through to the kitchen. Thomas trailed after him, a cigarette having materialized in his hand. He leaned on the counter and lit it as Jimmy washed out his teacup absentmindedly, acutely aware of Thomas’s presence next to him. Once he’d put the teacup on the drying rack he turned to find that Thomas looking at him, as he often did. He met those wise gray eyes and smiled awkwardly.

“Uh, good night,” he said, twisting his hands in front of himself.

Thomas blew out a cloud of smoke and squinted at him like he was a particularly interesting newspaper article.

“Don’t forget to think about this before you do it,” he said.

“Right,” said Jimmy, nodding. Honestly, the clouds of smoke that were pushed out through Thomas’s red lips had probably already made his decision for him.

Wait, what?

“Good night,” said Thomas finally, and his expression softened into a half smile. Jimmy waved and started up the stairs.

Jimmy knew that Thomas had promised him to be friends and nothing more, but he knew it could never be that simple because of the fact that Thomas was in love with him. Actually, that was a _simple_ truth, now that Jimmy was thinking about it. And Thomas had told him once, in such simple words: “Well, I love you”. He’d said it like it was nothing, just an inconsequential truth that Jimmy wouldn’t find earth-shattering. Jimmy never really threw around I-love-yous like that because he’d never really loved before. He couldn’t even imagine it. It must be a different kind of devotion if Thomas had gone and gotten beaten up in his stead. 

Jimmy went into his room and closed the door quietly behind him. After changing, he grabbed the letter Lady Anstruther had sent him and flopped down on his bed, holding the letter above his head. There was nothing particularly attractive about her handwriting; her sentences curled forcefully across the paper and ended with periods like stabs of ink. It made him squirm to think that she had been his first lover. Well, lover maybe wasn’t quite the right word, but no matter. He had already decided (with the help of Thomas’s big gray eyes and red lips and snarky comments) that he’d rather stay here. 

He fell asleep quickly after that, soothed by his decision.


End file.
